


My Aphrodite

by Nightsister



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Blasphemy, Episode: s01e08 Flesh and Bone, Gen, Lords of Kobol, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-06
Updated: 2013-01-06
Packaged: 2017-11-23 22:27:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/627197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nightsister/pseuds/Nightsister
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Boomer has a crisis of faith.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Aphrodite

**Author's Note:**

> I was able to pull old file from my external hard drive and found some oldies (but goodies?). This looks like it was a response to a prompt from somewhere - Livejournal? - because I had written down: "Challenge #6 - A private moment observed." It's a take on the ending of _Flesh and Bone_ during season one.

Throughout my life I've had faith: that the Lords of Kobol were watching over us; that if I worked hard, I could achieve anything I wanted; that there was one person somewhere who held the other part of my soul, and when I found him, I would be happy.

Funny how one moment can change everything.

I'd passed Winger and was already in the small stateroom when I heard Kara's voice.

"Lords of Kobol, hear my prayer," she said quietly, head down. 

I stilled just inside the door, hidden by shadows.

"I don't know if he had a soul or not," she continued, "but if he did, look after it." She held two statues in her hands. From my viewpoint I could tell that the first one was Artemis -- her bow was prominent -- and the second could've been Athena. Or Aphrodite, although the thought of Starbuck praying to the Lord of love seemed absurd. The Lords of the hunt and of strategy in war made far more sense to me. But the statues looked worn, darkened with age and handling. I fleetingly wondered if she'd gotten them from Scorpia, where the metalshops cranked out thousands of these for the feast days in the fall.

I knew Kara had gone over to the _Geminon Traveler_ to interrogate a Cylon collaborator; my clearance status gave me access to that much intel. Had she been praying for his soul? Was he really a Cylon? Cylons were machines, right? They wouldn't need praying, couldn't possibly believe in anything, could they?

Kara moved her lips in soft prayer, her statues in her hands, when it hit me, and hit me **hard**. A sense of wrong. Wrong, WRONGWRONGWRONG. Blasphemy. NO.

Evil. 

_Only one god._

I shook my head slightly, reeling from the -- thoughts? feelings? bubbling up from inside me like tar from the pits on Leonis, just as black and biting and viscous.

What Starbuck -- _Kara_ \-- was doing was suddenly heretical, profane, and completely anathema to something elemental inside of me. I was staggering from how angry I felt, how intense the shock and disgust at my friend's actions. And the urge to hurt her for praying to these false gods was so very, very strong...

Stop. 

Just as abruptly, I experienced a complete reversal of feeling. I was immediately thrown into memories of going to the Feast of Aphrodite on Troy with my family, memories of my mother as she bought us honey cakes and let us drink one tiny glass of sweetened wine in honor of the occasion. Aphrodite was my mother's favorite Lord and protective patron; we had a small shrine in one corner of our house for her, always adorned with flowers or with burning incense during the cold winter months. That corner of our house smelled so wonderfully sweet. Of course, this was all before the mine explosion. I don't have too many scent memories after that. 

But the thought of _only one god_ lingered like an insect buzzing in my ear, and I had no idea why. My father often prayed to Apollo -- Lee took my hand and smiled so sweetly when I had shared that with him -- and I myself bought a small statue of Iris, messenger to the Lords of Kobol and faithful companion to Aphrodite, when I received my commission as a Raptor pilot on the _Galactica_.

One God.

Only one God...

What was I feeling? There was never any doubt in my mind that the Lords of Kobol watched over us, and protected us. But then, where were the Lords when the colonies were under attack? Where were they when Caprica City burned, when the fleet was decimated, when President Adar and Admiral Nagala were killed? What were the Lords of Kobol doing when I had to power up the Raptor carrying my handful of fearful refugees and leave my ECO behind? Was Ares watching over Helo now? Or did Eirene grant him peace when he died? 

The pain was suffocating. I clamped my hand over my mouth but still a sob escaped. It was too much. There were no Lords, not if they could sit idly by and watch as civilization was destroyed by a bunch of overachieving, murderous toasters who believed in one, true god.

_Only one_.

Kara must have heard me, because she hastily stuffed her statues into her pack and turned, pasting a smile on her face.

"Hey. What's up?"

"Uh, nothing." I'm sure the corresponding smile on my face also looked forced, so I willed myself to relax. "Wanna grab a bite before I have to get to the preflight briefing?"

She kept smiling, but shook her head. "Nah. Think I'll just lie down for a bit." She indicated to her leg. "Still hurts like a bitch when I walk on it too much."

"Oh." I was oddly relieved. "All right then. See you later."

"Yeah, later."

I was halfway to the door when I saw Kara reach back under her pack. As I left, I could imagine her taking her statues out, praying over some lost enemy who may or may not have a soul. Or maybe she was praying for herself?

It was going to take a lot more than prayer to keep us out of the reach of the Cylons. Or were we too far from what was left of the colonies for the Lords of Kobol to protect us? Did they even exist? And if not, what were we supposed to do? Where was our faith supposed to come from? 

I hurried back to my own rack. On the top shelf, I had a small leather pouch that contained my own patron Lords. I took out the statues of Aphrodite, Apollo and Iris, and hurried through the hallways to the incinerator -- my security clearance status could get me in. There would be nothing left but lumps of slag when I was done. So say we all.


End file.
